An Internal Battle
by bookloves
Summary: College!Verse AU, (Sam/OC, Destiel); Azaliah Costello is a junior at the University of California. Enter Sam and Dean Winchester, two brothers who seem to be polar opposites and Castiel Novak, a seemingly angelic being that happens to have Sam's personality. Their relationships could make them better or worse. Trigger warnings inside. On Hiatus.


**A/N:** **I really should stop writing new stories, huh? But, um, bad news, guys... I decided to discontinue both Broken Souls and Breaking Free. I will rewrite both stories completely, with new plots and everything. Characters and such WILL stay constant, but I think they didn't end up nearly as well as I hoped they would. Okay, then, now that this is out of the way, enjoy!**

**xx**

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_Well, I couldn't tell you  
__Why she felt that way__She felt it, everyday.__And I couldn't help her, __I just watched her make __The same mistakes again__What's wrong, what's wrong, now?__Too many, too many problems?  
Don't know where she belongs;__Where she belongs_

Nobody's Home by Avril Lavigne

* * *

Azaliah looked at the textbook that sat on her bed. She knew she had to study for Psychology 103. But she didn't have the motivation.

It wasn't that she didn't want to; oh, God, she would every second of every day. But, for some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to it.

With a sigh, she pulled her raven black hair into a messy ponytail and turned her iPod on. She blasted the music through her small dorm. She walked back to her bed and sat down on the edge.

This week had been hell.

_Knock knock._

She groaned, sitting up. "Just a second!" She hollered, and walked over to the door. When she opened it, she saw a _really _tall guy standing about a foot away with a sheepish grin on his face. She took note of the suitcase and duffel bag that he held. She raised an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

He nodded his head slightly, his shaggy chocolate brown hair moving a little bit. "I'm, uh, Sam Winchester. I just started here and... I'm looking for dorm number..." He trailed off, pulling a slip of paper out of his back pocket. He unfolded it, and furrowed his brows. He looked back at her with hazel-y brown eyes. "206?"

She nodded, drawing her lips into a smile. She stepped out of the doorway, and walked the small distance between her dorm and the new kid's.

"Right here." She said, gesturing like one of the women on game shows to the door. "I'm at 198, remember that. If you need anything, come to me."

He smiled. "I, uh, never caught your name..?" He asked shyly.

"I'm Azaliah. Or Azal, if that's easier."

"Azaliah?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. It's a Biblical name. It means 'near God'." She smirked.

"Your parents are religious, I'm guessing?" He asked.

"Hardcore Catholics." She said, spreading her arms. She looked at the black diver's watch on her wrist. "Hey, I have to go. See you around?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Sam said, a bit more confident than he was before. Azaliah gestured for him to give her the slip of paper still in his hand.

"I'll give you my cell phone number, just in case." She said, slipping the pencil from her ear to write her number. She handed the paper ask to him.

"Thanks." He said, smiling. She smiled back. "Bye."

"Bye, Sam." She said, leaving him at the door to the dorm and walking back to her own. She stepped inside and heard the music still playing. She sighed, reaching towards the still-not-opened bottle of vodka on the desk in the corner. She twisted it open, not bothering to grab a shot glass, and tilted the bottle towards her lips. The alcohol burned at her throat, but she found comfort in it. Besides, the taste of strawberries was left on her tongue after she swallowed.

She always thought she studied better when she was drunk.

* * *

_Knock, knock._

Azaliah woke up, head pounding, to someone knocking on her door. She looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

_Why the hell is someone at my dorm at three thirty in the freaking morning?_

She groaned at the throbbing numbness in her head, but stood up and groggily walked to the door. "Hold... On... A second..."

She squinted her eyes as she opened the door, revealing a binding light—well, not really _blinding_, but she _was drunk—_and saw a man standing a few inches away. He wasn't as tall as Sam Winchester, but he was pretty close.

As her eyes adjusted, she was able to distinguish his features. Army-cut honey blond hair, freckles splashed along his cheeks and nose, green eyes that reminded her of the vibrant grass in summer, and a cheeky grin. He wore a plaid shirt with an ACDC band tee under, but she could tell that he _definitely_ had some six-pack action going on.

"Um, who are you?" She asked with a gravelly voice, her throat dry and sore. That stupid smirk he had was getting on her nerves, and he must've noticed, because he smiled wider.

"I'm Dean Winchester. I'd say sorry about waking you up, but I probably shouldn't be." His eyes trailed to the half-empty bottle of vodka she just realized she was still holding. She lifted her hand, glancing at the bottle, and rolled her eyes.

"You Sam's brother?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. He nodded.

"Yeah. Though, to be honest, I'm pretty surprised he's already made a new friend. She's pretty hot too." He said, winking. Azaliah glared at him. "What's your name, princess?"

"Azaliah. But soon it'll be 'Azaliah the Sadist' if you don't stop flirting."

"Kinky." He joked, chuckling. He stopped when he noticed her giving him the death-stare. He cleared his throat. "Well, uh... Can you tell me which dorm he's in?"

"206. Like, 4 rooms down." She muttered.

"Okay. Thanks."

"Bye." She said, stepping back into her dorm and closing the door. As she passed the bathroom, she couldn't help but stare longingly at the scale that sat on the floor. She walked into the tiny room, and looked at the mirror that had a sheet of paper stuck to it. It was her weight at the end of each day.

When she weighed herself a few hours earlier, she'd been 99 pounds. The day she started keeping track of her weight, which was a few months before, she'd been 134 pounds. She was normal.

She brought the bottle of vodka to her lips again.

That one bottle didn't last much longer.

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**A/N: So, how was it? I know it was short, but this was more of an intro/prologue than anything. **

**Please favorite/follow and review!**


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